" The master of the transport was an old sailor named Killick,
who despised the whole Gallic race, and had no mind to see his ship in
charge of a Frenchman. "He would not let the pilot speak," continues
Knox, "but fixed his mate at the helm, charged him not to take orders
from any person but himself, and going forwards with his trumpet to the
forecastle, gave the necessary instructions. All that could be said by
the commanding officer and the other gentlemen on board was to no
purpose; the pilot declared we should be lost, for that no French ship
ever presumed to pass there without a pilot. 'Ay, ay, my dear,' replied
our son of Neptune, 'but, damn me, I'll convince you that an Englishman
shall go where a Frenchman dare not show his nose.' The "Richmond"
frigate being close astern of us, the commanding officer called out to
the captain and told him our case; he inquired who the master was, and
was answered from the forecastle by the man himself, who told him 'he
was old Killick, and that was enough.' I went forward with this
experienced mariner, who pointed out the channel to me as we passed;
showing me by the ripple and color of the water where there was any
danger, and distinguishing the places where there were ledges of rocks
(to me invisible) from banks of sand, mud, or gravel. He gave his orders
with great unconcern, joked with the sounding-boats which lay off on
each side with different colored flags for our guidance; and when any of
them called to him and pointed to the deepest water, he answered: 'Ay,
ay, my dear, chalk it down, a damned dangerous navigation, eh! If you
don't make a sputter about it you'll get no credit in England.
Pages:
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760